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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29394429">Painless</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dralexreid/pseuds/dralexreid'>dralexreid</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Dr Piper Bishop [71]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Criminal Minds (US TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bullying, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, platonic fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:54:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,590</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29394429</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dralexreid/pseuds/dralexreid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dr Spencer Reid/Dr Piper Bishop</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Dr Piper Bishop [71]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1972852</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Spence don’t do it,” Piper pleaded, her arms crossed as she leant against the hallway, barely stifling a laugh as Spencer squatted in front of her.</p><p>“He deserves it,” Spencer said stubbornly, turning around, the brush in his hand slightly dripping. “He replaced my sugar with salt.”</p><p>“That’s what you get for keeping the box in the office kitchen.”</p><p>“What was I <em>supposed</em> to do with it?” Spencer asked her, returning to his task at hand.</p><p>“Everyone knows you keep two clear containers of sugar and label one as salt.” Spencer looked at her, expecting humour but she was being genuine.</p><p>“Is that why I accidentally used salt in my coffee two months ago?” Piper bit her tongue, letting it slightly poke out of her lips.</p><p>“It’s basic adaptation,” she said defensively. “Every sibling knows how to do the salt swap.”</p><p>“Yeah, well, I never had siblings,” Spencer said. “And I’m happier for it.” Piper snorted, returning to her job as lookout.</p><p>“The bee has entered the hive. I repeat, the bee has entered the hive,” Piper hissed, pulling at Spencer’s collar and slipping through the nearest door with him into the conference room. Spencer threw the brush in the bin as Piper closed the door haphazardly, listening through the door as Spencer stashed the pot in the cabinet where they kept the coffee. Piper snickered at the sound of Derek’s fluid swearing. Spencer pulled at her wrist, pulling her into a chair and they steeled their features before noting that they were not alone in the conference room. Rossi stared at them, his lips falling open to ask a question until Derek burst through the door, one hand held up gingerly.</p><p>“You got a question, Morgan?” Dave asked, scoffing as Derek rummaged through cabinets.</p><p>“Yeah, where the hell are our paper towels?”</p><p>“Budget cuts?” Spencer asked, not looking up as he grabbed for his files.</p><p>“And mind your language,” Piper scolded him as JJ and Emily joined the group from the other end of the room. Derek looked murderous when Aaron walked in with Penelope.</p><p>“What’s wrong with your hand?” Aaron asked.</p><p>“I just need a minute,” he squeaked before dashing out and Piper released the laugh she’d been holding in, mirroring how Spencer beamed. The rest of the team’s gaze bounced between the smiling geniuses and the screwed profiler washing his hands furiously. He returned to attend the briefing more composed than before as they all paid attention to the bomber in Idaho. JJ retold the story of Randy Slade who had entered his school 10 years ago with a gun and bomb, killing 13 students. “It was one of those "Where were you?" events. My whole campus was glued to the TV,” she said, remembering the moment vividly.</p><p>“Yeah, last night, Principal Givens was killed by a bomb modelled exactly like the old one,” Penelope said. They established fairly quickly that the victimology must have been symbolic, and the commemoration of the ten-year anniversary wasn’t enough for the unsub. He wanted to relive it. The team left immediately for the jet, grabbing their bags and finishing last-minute sentiments. Spencer left with Emily and Dave, explaining the prank war once Derek had left. JJ was placing a call to Will while Aaron simply sent a text, joining Piper as she waited by the elevators.</p><p>“Hey, how’d your parent-teacher meeting go?” Piper asked, remembering something he’d mentioned a couple days ago at a team lunch.</p><p>“Jack’s test scores came in. I think Uncle Spencer’s video lessons is coming in handy.”</p><p>“Oh, trust me, he loves doing them. You couldn’t stop him even if you wanted to,” Piper said, smiling to herself. “So, how’s Jack doing?”</p><p>“He’s reading at a fourth-grade level,” Hotch said, beaming with pride as they entered the elevator. “We finished Charlie and the Chocolate Factory last night.” Piper offered him her congratulations; a sad sort of smile softly given to him. JJ rushed in after them and Piper pressed the button to take them down to the lobby where their SUVs were waiting.</p><p>In the jet, they started comparing the bomb from 10 years ago to the one that killed Givens. Piper and JJ looked up from their seats to Spencer. “Perpetrators of school violence are often sophisticated with their weapons.”</p><p>“Randy Slade carried his bomb in his backpack,” JJ offered in her seat across from Spencer.</p><p>“This guy hid his in Givens' clock radio,” Emily said as she joined them with a mug of coffee.</p><p>“Maybe he saw Slade as a mentor?” Piper asked. “He wasn’t exactly a loner. Excellent student and varsity wrestler, many girlfriends and had a good relationship with his brother, right?” The question was directed at Dave who sat in front of Piper in the window seat. His gaze fell to her, curled up in her seat, leaning back against the window, her body facing the team.</p><p>“He was also a high-functioning psychopath with an above-average intelligence,” Rossi countered. “Everything was about power to him.”</p><p>“His explosive of choice was Semtex,” Derek pointed out. “It's found at demolition sites, but it's held under lock and key.”</p><p>“Which made us consider the possibility of a partner,” Aaron continued. “Never found one.”</p><p>“Slade was too much of a narcissist to share credit,” Dave said, recalling his profile from the old case. “But he was also an impulsive teen, which is what bothers me about this unsub.”</p><p>“His sense of control?” JJ asked.</p><p>“And the end game that he's working toward,” Rossi added. “Slade's pathology revolved around the big kill.” Piper nodded slowly.</p><p>“This unsub could have done the same if he'd waited for the candlelight vigil,” Derek said, catching on.</p><p>“Which means there's no blaze of glory fantasy here,” Emily continued.</p><p>“This unsub has more bombs made, and he's savouring the anticipation of his next attack,” Dave said, ending the discussion as each of them reviewed their files, others starting conversations until the jet hit the tarmac. Piper opted to stay behind and go through the cafeteria survivors to help Penelope. Reid and JJ were directed to Principal Givens while Derek and Emily took the medical examiner before meeting with Hotch and Rossi at the Slade residence.</p><p>“So, the bomb completely incinerated the body, but the M.E. found a bullet in Givens’ leg,” Emily updated them in the car as they pulled over a house, the entrance heralded by reporters and cameramen.</p><p>“Looks like we’re not the only ones interested in Brandon,” Derek said, his tone soured.</p><p>“It's gonna make it a lot harder for us to talk our way in,” Aaron said.</p><p>“Unless we use it to our advantage,” Rossi said, stepping out with a file and Derek trailing after him as they introduced themselves to the pressing journalists.</p><p>“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. I'm SSA David Rossi of the FBI. That's R-O-S-S-I. So, if anyone has any questions, you're free to ask them now.” Aaron and Emily took advantage of the ruckus, slipping up to the house to a woman who refused to let them in until she caught sight of Aaron’s face, remembering him from her eldest boy’s investigation. But the only person she would let inside to talk to Brandon, Randy’s younger brother, was Dave Rossi. So, Aaron called him over from the front door.</p><p>“All right, feel free to call me if you have any other background questions,” Derek told the reporters. “My phone number is 702-555-0103.”</p><p>“And your name, sir?” A young woman asked from the front row, trying to catch his eye.</p><p>“Dr Spencer Reid, R-E-I-D.” Rossi tried not to smirk as they walked up to the house.</p><p>Within a half-hour, Spencer and JJ returned to the precinct, having wrapped up the crime scene. “So, the unsub has to be tied to the school somehow, right?” JJ asked him, walking into the room where Piper was seated, going through files of everyone in the cafeteria. “Current student, alumni, family member who lost someone?”</p><p>“It could be Slade groupie celebrating his hero,” Spencer countered, taking a seat. “And Derek said he taped nails to the exterior of the bomb, specifically to rip open flesh.”</p><p>“That's a sadistic detail of Slade's the unsub copied,” JJ said.</p><p>“A groupie probably wouldn't show that much self-control.”</p><p>“But someone with an axe to grind against the principal would,” JJ retorted.</p><p>“Maybe he's a surrogate for the tormenters in high school he can't punish,” Spencer offered, pouring out a cup of coffee despite Piper whacking him with a closed file. “Who were yours?” Spencer asked JJ, a smile on his lips.</p><p>“I don’t even remember,” JJ sighed, taking a seat in front of him.</p><p>“You don’t even remember?” Spencer repeated. “Wait, were you one of the mean girls?” Piper looked up, enthused by the strange turn of conversation.</p><p>“No,” JJ said, narrowing her eyes at him.</p><p>“Valedictorian, soccer scholarship, corn-fed, but still a size zero. I think that you might have been a mean girl,” Spencer said, taking a sip of his coffee, his eyes glinting in humour.</p><p>“Oh, come on, Piper, you’ve got my back, right?” she asked.</p><p>“You don’t have to be mean to not have tormenters, Reid,” Piper said, passing a fist bump to JJ. “I didn’t.”</p><p>“Really?” Spencer asked her.</p><p>“Course, I was the star pitcher in my sophomore year,” Piper said proudly. “If anyone broke my arm, the rest of the school would have killed them.”</p><p>“Not to mention, the ever-popular rock band,” Spencer said, snickering and eliciting a surprised laugh from JJ as Piper narrowed her eyes at him.</p><p>“Oh, what about your basketball skills, LeBron?” Piper retorted, letting him choke slightly on his coffee.</p><p>“You played basketball?” JJ asked, shocked at both revelations.</p><p>“I coached basketball,” he amended. “I broke down the opposing team's shooting strategy.”</p><p>“Is that why Morgan kicked you out of the pool last week?” JJ asked, making Piper snort in laughter.</p><p>“Yeah. It took him 3 rounds to realize I was hustling him,” Spencer said with a beaming smile, earning a chuckle from both of them as Piper kept going through the survivors until they were called out by the detective, given an address of their second victim.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Piper snapped her gloves on as Spencer crouched next to their next victim, JJ starting to dial Hotch. She moved to rummage through the young woman’s drawers, empty of clothes and accessories. She moved on to the closet, empty save for a few pairs of shoes. A pair of heels, sneakers and loafers sat neatly at the bottom of the closet, her slippers left on her cold, pale feet. She moved to the bedside table, not noticing anything of importance. Meanwhile, Spencer identified a crushed throat and shattered ribs. “How the hell is that possible?” Piper asked. “He shattered them?”</p><p>“Punched over and over again,” Spencer said, trying not to watch as the M.E. took the body away. Instead, he fixated on Piper, using her features to train his focus. Her eyes fixed on the blood spatters on the wall.</p><p>“He’s got no remorse, no empathy,” she said quietly. “He’s got specific targets. He isn’t trying to finish off Randy’s mission, he’s collecting his own injustices.”</p><p>“He’s had 10 years to simmer, he has to have a plan,” Spencer said.</p><p>“Okay, but what could trigger something like this?” JJ asked them.</p><p>“He was ignored,” Piper said quietly. “Hotch said they thought Randy had a partner, maybe that’s who we’re dealing with. But he wasn’t credited by Randy. Invisible to the rest of his school.”</p><p>“So, what was it Chelsea did?” JJ asked, gesturing to where the body was only minutes before.</p><p>“I don’t know yet,” Piper murmured, staring at the blood-stained carpet. “I’m gonna get some air. I’ll meet you both back at the precinct.” JJ watched, slightly concerned at Piper’s retreating figure and Spencer chewed his bottom lip.</p><p>“Go,” JJ told him. “CSU still has to go through the room and Hotch wants to take a look at the room anyway.” Spencer nodded, flashing her a grateful smile as he stepped out of the room, taking stairs two at a time, finding Piper sat on the front steps of the hotel, her body hunched over. Soft swearing floated out of her.</p><p>“Breathe in, breathe out,” she murmured to herself. Her foot was tapping insistently. “Z, X, no, Y, X, um,” she swallowed, trying to remember desperately. “W, V, U, T, S, R, Q, um, P.” She let out another breath, making an ‘o’ shape with her mouth. “O, N, M, um, L, J, no, K, J, I, H, G, F, E, D, C, B, A.” She took shaky breaths, standing up as she struggled to breathe in the cold fall air.</p><p>“Pipes?” He knew she used to have panic attacks, but Derek had been the one to ground her. Conveniently, he’d never been in the room, although that was a terrible way of putting it. She was shaking, waves of terror sending shockwaves through her. The bloodstains had most likely set her off. He urged his brain to do something, anything that might help, but all he could do was stand and watch as Piper shook her hand out, gasping for breaths. It wasn’t until she turned around, her pleading, panicked eyes meeting his, tears edging over her lashes that he burst forward, pulling her into a warm embrace and as a minute ticked by slowly underneath Idaho stars, her breaths started to slow as her body registered Spencer’s warmth, the smell of his cardigan, his arms wrapped around her waist. He knew why she was so upset, but more importantly, he knew he had to distract her. “How’s Declan? I bet you miss him.” He felt her nod slowly against his chest, his hand gently pressed to the nape of her neck.</p><p>“He uh, he got first prize in his science fair,” she said, chuckling softly as she spoke. “He designed a, uh, a non-battery-operated necklace that measures your pulse.” Spencer raised his eyebrows.</p><p>“Smart kid,” was all he could say as Piper pulled away, clasping his hand comfortably as she leaned against the railing.</p><p>“I know someone smarter,” she quipped, smiling at him slowly until it faded, and she stared holes into his sneakers. “Thank you,” she whispered.</p><p>“I didn’t do anything,” he admitted. “How long have you been having them?”</p><p>“Can we not?” Piper pleaded with him. He didn’t deserve her pressure on the already strenuous load on his mind. “Can we just find this killer first?” He was uncomfortable with just leaving the topic at hand but was given no chance as the dark SUV caught his eye from behind her. Piper pulled her hand away from his, pushing up so she could sit on the railing as the rest of their team exited the dark vehicle. Sniffing, she opted to go back to the precinct with Derek and Emily while Spencer took the others upstairs.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>That night, the team reconvened around a table at a decent restaurant, their voices out of earshot from the others as they continued discussing the case over plates of Mexican food. Every time Spencer passed a glance at Piper, she was laughing easily with Emily, her hands never drifting to the glass of wine. From a stranger’s stray glance, it was as though Spencer was the one who’d had the attack, not her, with how quiet he was. Even Derek had posed the question after dinner to him, whether he was okay. He studied her behaviour all the way to their hotel room, how she traded stories with JJ, how she passed ‘goodnight’s to the entire team before using their room key to unlock the door, how she closed her eyes in relief as he closed the door behind her, how she slipped out of her boots, unstrapped her holsters, leaving all three on the bedside table rather than the coffee table like she used to. “Piper,” he tried again. “You can’t run from this.”</p><p>“And I was doing so well,” she quipped, tugging her jacket off roughly, turning her back to him to the chair where she’d begun to hang her jacket.</p><p>“How long?” Spencer insisted, his voice firm with her, as though he were scolding a child.</p><p>“I’m <em>handling</em> it.” She felt her teeth grind into each other, her knuckles gripping hard on the chair.</p><p>“Yeah, I can see <em>exactly</em> how well you’re handling it,” he said bitterly. “It’s funny how I tell you everything that bothers me except every time you feel vulnerable, <em>you</em> close yourself off.”</p><p>“It’s different,” she managed, her eyes closed as her heart started running faster, starting to feel cornered.</p><p>“Is it?” he cried exasperatedly. “Piper, this isn’t one sided. You and me against the world, remember? Or is that only applicable when I’m hurting?”</p><p>“Yes,” she hissed, finally turning around, her eyes brutally raw, her posture indignant. “I can’t afford to be vulnerable.”</p><p>“You’re allowed to be scared,” Spencer objected, feeling preposterous for having to say that. “You’re allowed to be vulnerable.”</p><p>“Yeah, well, I don’t want to be afraid. I’m tired of being afraid!” she yelled, gesturing violently. “I’m tired of waiting for another shoe to drop and crush someone else that I love.” Her piece said, she let herself collapse into the chair, hunching over so her fingers interlaced behind her neck. Spencer let out a sigh, taking a seat next to her.</p><p>“You’re a hero, Pipes,” he reassured her, placing a hand on her back.</p><p>“I don’t feel like one,” she whispered. “I just feel broken.”</p><p>“You’re not broken,” he said kindly, pressing a kiss to the top of her hair, trying so hard to comfort her, making her look up at him. “You’re smart and kind and beautiful and loyal. You can’t save everyone, but you damn well try and no matter what, you keep trying. That’s who you are. That’s who I fell in love with.” She let him clasp her face, his thumbs brushing away tears. “I love you. Unconditionally.” He flashed a soft smile that she managed to mirror before pressing her lips against his softly.</p><p>“I love you too,” she whispered, burying her face in his neck. “More than you know.”</p><p>“I think I have a fair idea,” Spencer remarked, feeling lighter at the laugh that escaped from her lips.</p><p>“You’re an expert on many things, Dr Reid, but not this,” she retorted, her deep brown eyes carrying a lot less pain than before.</p><p>“You could always explain it to me,” Spencer said, pulling a soft, adorable face which, if she were being candid, didn’t take him a lot of effort and always had the magical effect of making her smile.</p><p>“I would but a) it would take too long and b) I really need a shower.” Piper pushed herself off the seat, making her way to the bathroom until his long fingers wrapped around her wrist, pulling her back so she fell into his lap.</p><p>“I don’t see why we can’t do both,” he suggested, a playful look in his eyes and Piper hid a gleaming smirk.</p><p>“We can’t do both because Derek’s room is on that side next to us and he <em>will</em> be insufferable and tell Emily who will then—” Whatever Emily might or mightn’t do was interrupted by Spencer pulling her chin down to sweep her into a kiss, his warm lips filling her and yet leaving her starving.</p><p>“As you wish,” he smirked.</p><p>“See now, you do things like that and then I can’t think straight,” Piper remarked, compensating for his smug laugh by straddling him and placing both her hands against his jaw. Her silver rings ghosted his skin just like her thumb did the bottom of his lip before meeting his lips softly, tipping his head back slightly to get a better angle. His hands operated without command, gliding up her thighs to her waist, untucking the simple black top from the belt of her slacks and inching up when his pocket buzzed. “Ignore it,” she sighed, pulling away and resting her forehead on his. He pulled his cell out, ignoring Piper’s groan as he acknowledged the no caller id. Sighing, she pressed a kiss to his forehead before letting him answer.</p><p>“This is Dr Spencer Reid,” he introduced himself, watching forlornly as Piper grabbed her things and headed to the bathroom.</p><p>
  <em>“Hi, this is Cindy Lautner with the Boise Bugle. Is it true that the Boise Bomber struck again tonight?”</em>
</p><p>“Wh—No comment.” Spencer pulled a frustrated face, ending the call abruptly and tossing the cell onto the coffee table as the sound of water echoed out from the bathroom.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Spencer blinked lazily into sunlight slightly blocked by Piper’s hunched over figure. He sat up slowly, his newspaper and a fresh cup of tea on his nightstand. He pressed the cup to his lips, sipping sweet, spiced tea, soothing his head. “Morning,” Piper murmured, scrolling on her tablet.</p><p>“What’s that?”</p><p>“Garcia just sent me a file on Chelsea, everything she did in the months after the school bombing.”</p><p>“What’d she do?”</p><p>“By the looks of it, drained every facet of attention she could get. She’s got interviews in local, regional and national papers, there’s a picture of her in USA Today. Surprised she hasn’t written a book at this point.”</p><p>“You think that’s why he attacked her?”</p><p>“We know injustice collectors start big,” Piper said, rolling up her sleeves as she leant back to look at him. “I dunno, it’s probably a long shot. I mean, who knows if she did anything at all?” She leant her head on her hand, resting her elbow on the chair. Her eyes gazed at Spencer’s amber ones, lingering on how his hair fell in a limp mess. “I lied yesterday,” she blurted out. “When I said I didn’t have any tormentors because I was the pitcher.” Spencer’s forehead wrinkled, posing a question. “No-one bullied me because most of them were too busy feeling sorry for me or whispering about me behind my back. It wasn’t until I joined the baseball team that people actually talked to me.”</p><p>“Because of your mom?” Spencer asked incredulously, eliciting a humourless snort.</p><p>“Yeah. I only ever had one friend in my freshman year. I just uh—” she stared at her fingers, picking at the nails. “I didn’t want to say it in front of JJ. But you, uh, you should know.” Spencer’s face went slack, a trait they both shared when a neuron fired in both their brains. “What is it?”</p><p>“You were an outcast, right?”</p><p>“Well, thanks, I feel much better now,” Piper scoffed. “So?”</p><p>“So, even you had a friend,” Spencer said, abandoning his cup of tea in search for his cell.</p><p>“This still feels like a dig at me.”</p><p>“No, I mean, even outcasts eventually form friendships,” he said, frantically going through his clothes until Piper called his name out and tossed his phone on the bed for him to reach for. “Thanks. You should get dressed by the way. Your long shot hit a lot closer than you thought.”</p><hr/><p>Within minutes, the group had gathered in the precinct, dressed and armed with breakfast, putting together the last stitches of their final profile before they started presenting it. “Partners of dominant psychopaths are usually submissive, but that doesn't mean that they can't be intelligent or that they're physically weak,” Hotch started.</p><p>“This unsub laid low after the bombing and successfully evaded police and FBI. That took cunning and patience, which he's exhibiting now with his current murders,” Derek continued.</p><p>“He probably wasn’t considered for any kind of media attention, not like some of the other survivors,” Piper said briefly, comfortable seated on a table. “And his lack of self-esteem and confidence made it impossible for him to admit to it.”</p><p>“We think he fits the loner profile Slade debunked,” Rossi added. “He grew up in an abusive home, which kept him from forming the normal social bonds in high school.”</p><p>“This unsub was the outcast the outcasts rejected,” Spencer explained. “He won't stand out in any capacity, and as a matter of fact, most of his fellow students probably won't even remember graduating with him.”</p><p>“And that invisibility is what made him attractive to Slade,” Emily enlightened the group of detectives, lieutenants and uniformed officers. “This partner wouldn't steal the spotlight. Slade turned to the cafeteria because most of the names on his list ate there together during fifth period.”</p><p>“His hatred festered when the names on the list emerged from the cafeteria as media heroes,” JJ said. “And now he wants to finish the job that Randy started.”</p><p>“Emotionally, this weekend is more a high school reunion to him than a memorial,” Dave relayed. “We go to reunions to show who we grew up to be. Often that means changing everything about who we were.”</p><p>“Consciously or not, Randy Slade revealed clues as to his partner's identity when he detonated his bomb,” Aaron finished. “Agent Prentiss and Bishop will be conducting cognitive interviews to see what the survivors might remember.” With the profile done, Spencer and JJ started going through student files from Randy’s grade of seniors while Piper and Emily started for the school. She was more than happy to let Emily take the lead in explaining the task at hand to the group of survivors.</p><p>“You want us to walk through what happened that day?” the young woman asked. “Didn't we do that when we were seniors?”</p><p>“Yes, but there may be some details that you didn't think were important at the time that could help us now, things that could help us learn about the partner.”</p><p>“Randy made us all lie face-down. I didn't see anything,” someone else corrected her. “None of us did.”</p><p>“Well, that's not true. Jerry did,” another one piped up. “He's the guy Randy made lock the doors.”</p><p>“Yeah. Yeah, I did,” Jerry said.</p><p>“The interviews we're going to conduct won't focus on what you saw, but what you felt,” Emily tried placidly.</p><p>“You want me to tell you how I felt licking the tile in the cafeteria?” the same woman from before voiced. “Thanks, I do that at therapy twice a week. How about how I feel now, seeing my name on a list of people who should be dead?”</p><p>“The Boise police have offered everyone on this list a protective detail,” Piper said tiredly.</p><p>“Like that would have done Chelsea any good. She was killed in her hotel room.” Piper pushed up, towering over the seated woman, tired of their selfishness.</p><p>“Chelsea wasn’t just killed.”</p><p>“Piper—” Emily tried, warningly, recognising the flash of anger that contorted Piper’s face.</p><p>“Her throat was crushed, her ribs were shattered, sending shards of bone into her heart. So, I think a few minutes of your time will mean the world to her if it means we can find her killer, don’t you?” Emily waited for the young woman to nod meekly. “Glad we’re clear. Now, we’re going to give each of you a time. Agent Prentiss and I will expect you here. Try not to waste our time.” Her piece said, she took her seat again, letting Emily pass each of them a memo with a given time over the day, starting with Jerry.</p><hr/><p>Piper was seated comfortably in a seat, studying Jerry’s micro-expressions while Emily started interviewing him. “Thanks for doing this,” Emily started as Jerry looked uneasily at Piper.</p><p>“You didn’t really give me much of a choice,” Jerry said, a nervous laugh escaping his lips.</p><p>“Actually, I did give you a choice but the part of your brain that’s responsible for how you present yourself socially forced you here so that you don’t seem like a heartless coward.” Piper crossed her arms, still studying his features. “Seeing as you’re here, I suppose it succeeded.”</p><p>“So,” Emily interrupted. “I have some crime scene photos from the day if you'd like to take a look.”</p><p>“I don't need them,” Jerry said.</p><p>“Okay. It was 12:50. Lunch had just started. It was Thursday. When did you first notice Randy?” Jerry closed his eyes, making an effort to remember.</p><p>“He came in talking on his cell.”</p><p>“Did you hear the conversation?” Emily asked.</p><p>“He was talking to his mom. But that's not what I noticed first.”</p><p>“What did you notice?” His eyes opened, meeting Piper’s discerning gaze and Emily’s kind one.</p><p>“The gun in his hand. Natalie Gallo, she was the first. She never even saw it. Someone asked him what he was doing and he... Turned and shot him in the chest. So, uh... Nobody said anything after that.”</p><p>“That was when he ordered you to lock the doors, right?” Emily prompted him. “And then he started playing the game.”</p><p>“Yeah. Randy went table to table. He was ranting.”</p><p>“What did he say?” Emily asked.</p><p>“I am God,” Jerry recited. “Now, who's brave enough to look God in the eye? When kids didn't, he shot them. He walked up next to me. We were never close, but... We were always cool,” Jerry said. “I don't know what made me think I could do it. But I did. I looked him in the eye. He walked to his backpack... Pulled out the bomb... And he walked right over there... He said... I... Am... God! And like that, 10 kids were gone. Those reporters always asked me about that. Why did he detonate so early? I still don't know,” he admitted, still feeling pinned underneath Piper’s gaze.</p><p>“Now, let's go back for a second. Randy was pointing the gun at you,” Emily said, redirecting the conversation calmly. “Did you see the cell phone in his hand? What was on it?”</p><p>“I--I don't know. It was the detonator. All I saw was the black casing.”</p><p>“The black cell phone?” Piper asked. “Are you sure?”</p><p>“Yeah. Why?”</p><p>“The grey cell phone was the detonator,” Emily corrected him, narrowing her eyes. “The black cell was the one he'd talked to his mother on.”</p><p>“Uh, that's what I meant. The grey one,” Jerry covered. “It's just a mistake. Sorry.”</p><p>“Thanks for all your help,” Piper said, smiling genially as she showed him to the door and closed it behind him.</p><p>“Well, that was weird,” Emily scoffed.</p><p>“I don’t think that guy even saw the bomb,” Piper said, walking back as Emily stood up from off the table. “Derek said the grey cell phone was strapped to the bomb, right?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Emily said, glancing through the crime scene photos as she stepped over through the cafeteria tables to take a seat where Jerry would have as Piper pulled out her cell phone. “Jerry was sitting right here.”</p><p>“The backpack was right here,” Piper indicated at a chair she dragged over. “Natalie’s dead over there,” she said, pointing to the entrance.</p><p>“Allison’s dead behind me.”</p><p>“I walk over,” Piper said aloud. “Point it at you, ask you to look me in the eye.” Emily looked up to see Piper’s finger gun and almost laughed.</p><p>“It’s possible he made a mistake,” Emily said. “He was terrified.” Piper dropped her hand, glancing around the room.</p><p>“Something’s off,” she sighed, sitting in front of Emily. “And like that 10 kids were gone. The reporters always asked me about that.” Piper recited. “That’s what I don’t understand. Something this traumatic happens. What kind of person makes a media spectacle about this?” If Emily had an answer to the question, she was interrupted by one of the survivors who came in for her interview. By mid-afternoon, all of the interviews were done, and the rest of the team had organised the people on the list by clique, dividing them into two main groups; the elite social circles compared to the loners. It was likely the guy they were looking for was one of the loners and Rossi was busy with Morgan as he interrogated Lewis Ramsey. He’d never been in the cafeteria when Randy blew it up, blazing up in the back parking lot. He had access to the Semtex on his father’s construction site. He had no reason to be at the reunion, to a group of people he hated. And so, Ramsey confessed.</p><p>“I came this close to flushing two years of sobriety down the toilet tonight. Not just because Chelsea died, but because I knew that they were gonna cancel that ceremony. See, tomorrow night I was gonna tell people what I did. And I knew that I would be arrested as an accomplice. I knew it, but... I had to. This is my final amends.”</p><p>Aaron watched from the outside next to JJ who asked if he thought Ramsey was responsible. While he fit the profile and though the evidence pointed to him, he seemed sincere. Spencer busted into the room, trailed by Piper and Emily, placing the list they had found on the table and pointing to the scribbled message underneath the typography.</p><p>
  <em>all the LoSeRs in this godforsaken school</em>
</p><p>“The capitalisation isn't an accident. Look. L-S-R— Lewis Stuart Ramsey,” Spencer said.</p><p>“So, Slade did name his partner,” Aaron surmised, knocking on the glass twice for Derek and Dave to join them. “He’s definitely the partner. Do we think he’s the unsub?” The team shared glances with each other.</p><p>“I believe him,” Dave volunteered first and Derek agreed.</p><p>“So, that puts us back to our original problem,” Hotch announced to the team. “If the unsub isn't the partner, how did he get his hands on a list that Slade and Lewis kept to themselves?”</p><p>“I don’t think the unsub’s vendetta has anything to do with the list,” JJ proposed.</p><p>“I agree,” Piper volunteered. “We agree that Givens was the first target symbolically. Slade’s narcissism drove him to bomb that cafeteria. He didn’t want to be noticed, he wanted to be feared,” she explained.</p><p>“This guy wants to be known,” Emily said, catching on. “He needs to be acknowledged. He isn’t trying to complete a mission.”</p><p>“What did you two get from the interviews?” Aaron asked.</p><p>“Apart from the fact they’re all narcissistic douchebags?” Piper asked, taking a seat on a table.</p><p>“Something’s sketchy about Jerry Holtz,” Emily said. “He mixed up the cell phones.”</p><p>“Permission to tear apart his life?” Piper asked, a glint shining in her eyes.</p><p>“Find him. There’s a connection between the victims that we’re missing.”</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>By the time they did find Jerry Holtz however, his bloody and bruised body was laying on the tiles of the high school. What he had been doing back at the school was unclear, but he had been the first survivor to be interviewed and now, Emily, Piper and Spencer stared at his mangled body with a cocktail of disgust and intrigue. He’d been dead for less than an hour and while Emily and Spencer examined the body, Piper looked anywhere but, glancing through the otherwise empty hallway save for the body, the profilers and the forensic units, her gaze finally shifting to the shattered trophy wall.</p><p>“He shattered the glass,” she murmured softly. “But he didn’t use the trophies to attack Jerry.”</p><p>“Maybe he wanted a more personal touch,” Emily said with disgust. “Show of force, trying to scare Jerry.”</p><p>“This unsub did display an unusual level of savagery towards his victims,” Spencer rationalised. “But there aren’t any cuts on Jerry either.”</p><p>“He punched through the glass,” Piper said incredulously. “And then did all that while bleeding.” She gestured to the wild mess of blood and bone that used to be Jerry Holtz. “I’d be terrified of him too.” Spencer rose to his feet, turning his back on Jerry to face his colleagues.</p><p>“The only people who knew we were doing the cognitive interviews were the other survivors,” Emily pointed out.</p><p>“Yeah, JJ’s going through the victims' lives and trying to find the overlap,” Spencer updated. “Maybe we can compare their histories with the unsub's.” But Piper’s gaze was fixated on the glass display. “Something wrong?”</p><p>“Unusual savagery,” she murmured, one hand slipping into the pockets on her trousers just like pieces slowly slipping into place in her mind and as it did, her hand balled into a fist, slamming softly against her forehead. “I’ve been looking at it all wrong.” Emily slapped her arm, an eyebrow daintily raised in question. “I’ve been analysing what triggers him, but we need to look at why he hasn’t stopped. Why does anyone stop attacking someone?” Emily’s expression turned pensive.</p><p>“Empathy?” She offered placidly.</p><p>“He’s gone well beyond empathy,” Piper scoffed derisively. “He shattered Chelsea’s ribs, beat Jerry to death. He should be exhausted and injured. How is he still going?”</p><p>“He doesn’t feel pain,” Spencer realised, meeting Piper’s brilliant brown gaze. “There's a medical condition called pain asymbolia, where patients register harmful stimuli without being bothered by it. They've been documented holding their hand over an open flame because their brain doesn't send pain signals to the central nervous system.”</p><p>“That sounds pretty rare,” Piper mused, a slow smile spreading across her face. “But a spinal cord injury could elicit that kind of disorder.”</p><p>“Have you seen this before?” Emily asked.</p><p>“Nope!” she said happily, and the trio made their way back to the precinct, joining the others before the afternoon light set over the Idaho city. Piper was seated comfortably, one arm resting on the table as she explained in detail how the disorder worked and how it affected their profile. “A significant contributor to our sense of empathy is the way we personally experience pain.”</p><p>“And the unsub didn't develop his sense of empathy because it was cut off,” Dave surmised.</p><p>“Considering our unsub developed the condition after the bomb, when he was a senior, he probably developed some level of empathy but the trauma from the incident and the aftermath definitely reduced his capacity to feel empathy for his victims.”</p><p>“Does every person with asymbolia have this?” Aaron asked.</p><p>“Actually, most feel empathy just fine, which makes me think the rest of our profile is still accurate,” Spencer provided. “Loner, invisible.” Piper’s attention immediately drew to Spencer’s pocket where his phone began to chirp repeatedly. “Outcast, boiling rage— son of a bitch!” Spencer snapped, pulling his cell out violently, not bothering to check the number as he jabbed the answer button and rose his hand to his ear. “Hi! This is Dr. Spencer Reid. I actually can come to the phone right now with a very special message that your mother is—” Hotch interrupted him before he could finish the insult and Piper, with a lot of skill, managed to hide her smirk. Derek had no such luck, his micro-expressions giving him away immediately as he tried to remain overtly calm. “Sorry. I'm really sorry,” he apologised quickly, his eyes glancing quickly between the four profilers around him. “I don't know what got into me. Where were we?”</p><p>“I'm going to have Garcia check medical records,” Hotch announced. “What causes asymbolia?”</p><p>“Severe trauma produces severe lesions in the insular cortex,” Piper relayed as Spencer glanced at Derek again. “Essentially, it cuts off the brain from processing any kind of physical pain. Natural factors are rare though, it’s most likely an external factor.”</p><p>“Like a bomb going off next to him?” Dave scoffed, eliciting a soft snort from Piper.</p><p>“Yeah, like a bomb going off next to him,” Spencer repeated, his gaze fixed on Derek’s stifled smirk. Aaron moved away from the group, dialling Penelope’s number while Spencer leaned forward, gathering the scattered documents into a pile, murmuring to himself.</p><p>“I’m going to crush you,” he muttered under his breath, loud enough for Derek to hear.</p><p>“What was that?” Derek asked genially.</p><p>“What?” Spencer challenged and Dave took in a deep breath, presumably praying for patience while Piper sighed deeply, moving to join JJ and Emily in the other room.</p><hr/><p>“How’s it going out there?” Emily asked her with a smile.</p><p>“I have a sinking feeling that this prank war between Derek and Spencer is going to escalate. How about you two?”</p><p>“I'm having serious flashbacks going through these senior bios,” JJ chuckled, gesturing to the yearbook.</p><p>“Yeah, Facebook is making that pretty much obsolete,” Piper said, taking a seat in front of JJ while Emily remained standing over her, her gaze fixed on the book.</p><p>“Four years of accomplishments boiled down to one paragraph,” Emily sighed, and JJ looked up.</p><p>“Hey, did your school have anything called ‘Top 10’?” Piper simply shook her head, giving her the same message as Emily’s clear ‘No’.</p><p>“Is it an academic thing?” Emily asked, glancing down at the small text in the book.</p><p>“No, I don't think so,” JJ answered, leaning forward. “Only 10 of the survivors listed it, including Jerry and Chelsea, and neither one of them were valedictorian material.” She listed the ten names succinctly, letting Piper copy it out clearly on a spare notepad and watching as Emily processed each name.</p><p>“These are all jocks, nerds, theatre geeks. Nothing that would bring these kids together.”</p><p>“Yeah, except the explosion,” Piper scoffed. “What do these 10 have that the others don’t?” Emily handed it over to JJ who stared at the list, mulling it over, the same expression on her face that Spencer usually held, putting shambles together to make a clearer picture.</p><p>“I think I know what the top 10 is.” They watched the blonde stand up, order Emily to bring the others in and ask Piper to rearrange the survivor headshots on the board. The men filed in, scanning the ten images lined up together. “Recognise the top 10?” she asked them, gleaming with a revelation. “They were the students that went in front of the cameras after the bombing.”</p><p>“Chelsea’s interviews,” Piper realised softly, remembering the articles she’d skimmed a morning ago.</p><p>“These are the kids that went on talk shows, travelled to other schools. My guess is that they didn't self-select who made the cut.”</p><p>“Principal Givens did,” Dave surmised.</p><p>“That's why the unsub killed him first,” Derek filled in the blanks. “He was an outcast who wanted to fit in. Being a survivor should have been his golden ticket.”</p><p>“But he was excluded again, and that's why he's killing them,” Emily finished.</p><p>“Yeah. The rules of high school never changed, not even after a tragedy,” JJ said sadly, looking back to the photos as Aaron’s cell rang. He put their tech analyst on speaker, letting her name their unsub, Robert Adams, and that he just used his credit card at a local restaurant. A man who had once felt miles away was now only 2 and the team rushed to their cars, the ladies piling into one with Emily behind the wheel while Aaron took the helm with the boys, both of them converging into the same restaurant and peeling out in their Kevlar vests, just stopping as the front of the restaurant blew up. Aaron and Emily surged forward, flanked by Derek and JJ. Spencer and Piper were stationed at the back of the restaurant while Rossi remained near the front with the detective.</p><p>“Robert Adams, we're with the FBI,” Aaron started as Derek and JJ helped the other bystanders outside to the paramedics waiting patiently outside. “We just want to talk to you.”</p><p>“You better drop those guns if you just want to talk,” Robert spat, his gun aimed at the 8 former students around the table.</p><p>“We know why you're doing this, Bob,” Emily said kindly.</p><p>“It's pretty obvious, isn't it? Before tonight, they didn't know my name!” Robert yelled at her. “But now... No one will forget it.”</p><p>“Bob, you'll be in the news for a couple of days,” she tried again placatingly. “But no one will know the real story.”</p><p>“What story is that?”</p><p>“Tiffany...” Emily said, recognising her as the one Piper balked at. “What did Randy say to the kid who looked him in the eye?”</p><p>“He... He said Jerry wasn't worth a bullet,” Tiffany managed, regretting her decision to reject a protective detail.</p><p>“But he didn't say it to Jerry, did he, Bob?” Aaron said, catching on to Emily’s plan.</p><p>“No,” Robert admitted, gesturing wildly with his gun. “He said it to me. I was the only one brave enough to stare him down, but his bomb knocked me out, and when I woke up, there was Jerry on the TV telling my story! My story!” he shrieked as the last of the victims left the establishment.</p><p>“And nobody got to find out that Bob Adams was a good kid,” Emily said, fulfilling his fantasy for him. “A brave kid. The kind of kid you'd want to hang out with.”</p><p>“We can give you back your story, Bob, but you have to drop the gun,” Aaron said as Derek and JJ flanked their sides.</p><p>“Isn't it funny when your dream comes true...” Robert said, almost dazed. “It's never the way you want.”</p><p>“Drop the gun, Bob,” Emily said softly. But Robert simply shrugged, starting to run for the south entrance. Aaron radioed it in while pealing after him with Emily as Derek and JJ secured the last 8 victims. Spencer couldn’t stop Piper running into the building after Robert once she established that he wouldn’t be running out the back. Rossi realised rather grimly that there was only one way this would end. Aaron and Emily cleared the staff area and the kitchen, making their way down to the boiler room. Spencer felt his throat lose any kind of moisture, making it painful to breathe, never mind swallow. He couldn’t even remember the last thing he’d said to her before she’d run into the quiet building. Aaron pushed the ajar door to the boiler room further, letting Emily take the lead. “FBI! Drop the weapon, Bob!” Emily yelled but Bob made to shoot anyway. He never quite managed to squeeze the trigger as Aaron already lodged a bullet right underneath his collar bone. Bob toppled over and Emily kicked the gun away. Aaron’s alert gaze pinned on Robert reaching for something else but flitted away at the sound of the door and with him slightly distracted, Robert grabbed the slender metal wrench before yelling out.</p><p>“That…Didn’t…Hurt!” Robert yelled, lunging for the unit chief as Piper skid into the room, squeezing her own trigger. Robert stood stock still, blood trickling down his forehead as the wrench slipped from his loose grasp and clattered onto the floor. “Ouch,” he murmured before falling to his knees and collapsing onto the tiled floor. Aaron’s sombre gaze flitted to Piper as Emily crouched next to Robert, trying to feel a pulse. But his skin remained still, as did the heartbeat inside. Piper’s face was steel, holstering her gun firmly and nodding to Aaron before disappearing the way she came in.</p><hr/><p>On the jet, she was packed into her seat, a shawl over her shoulders as she turned a page of her book, her eyes flitting occasionally to the sleeping frame of Spencer, his lime-green hardcover face down. Gingerly, she picked it up and used the nearest form of paper to mark the page before placing it on the table. Derek was too busy picking out a song from his playlist to notice, not looking up until his selection was replaced with Spencer’s cheery voice. “We interrupt your regularly scheduled musical selection with an important announcement. Never wage a practical joke war against an M. I. T. graduate, because we have a history of going nuclear. Now sit back, relax, and enjoy the dulcet sounds of me screaming in your ear.” Derek ripped the headset off as Spencer’s voice screamed out and Piper flinched at the sound bleeding out.</p><p>“Okay, kid, that was cute,” Derek said. “But that's all you got?” Spencer simply let out a soft snore, a small smile threatening to emerge. His attention was immediately ripped away to his cell where Penelope’s soft smile flashed on his screen. “Hey, baby gir—”</p><p>“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—” He ripped that away from his ear too, quickly ending the call and Piper smirked softly as Rossi pulled out a white handkerchief, offering it to either of them.</p><p>“All right, Reid, it's on. Just know that paybacks are a bitch.” Spencer smiled lazily in his seat, putting to bed any doubt that he was actually asleep. Piper glanced up as Emily rose from her seat on the other side of the aisle, mouthing at her to ‘save me’.</p><p>“You’re on your own,” Emily whispered, making her way down to Aaron who was seated silently on the other end of the jet. She greeted him gently, taking the seat in front of him. “How’s Jack?” Aaron raised a brow, as though to ask how she knew. “Just had a feeling.”</p><p>“There's a kid that's being mean to him at school, and Jack's solution is to invite him over and make friends with him,” Aaron replied honestly, and Emily nodded.</p><p>“That is the sweetest and saddest thing I’ve ever heard.” Aaron nodded, sighing softly.</p><p>“Bishop asked me about him before we left.” He snorted softly. “I was afraid she might beat up the kid herself.” Emily beamed at the idea. “Don’t even think about it,” he scolded her.</p><p>“Yeah, how did you find out?” Emily asked.</p><p>“His teacher told me,” Aaron admitted slowly.</p><p>“Jack didn't tell you? Oh, that must be hard.”</p><p>“He wants to solve it himself,” Aaron said understandingly.</p><p>“And you want to let him,” Emily surmised. “But there's probably a part of you that wishes you could step in.”</p><p>“Well, there's a part of me that wants to protect him from everything that could hurt him, but I know I can't,” Aaron confessed.</p><p>“No,” Emily agreed. “But you can show him that he doesn't have to face it alone.” Aaron’s lips contorted into the smallest smile.</p><p>“How did you get by in Paris?” Emily leaned back, wiping away a stray strand of jet-black hair.</p><p>“Um, I played a lot of online Scrabble… with some girl named Cheeto Breath,” Emily said, smiling before the two of them leaned into the hallway to glance at the other end where JJ paced, licking her fingers, a packet of Cheetos in her hand.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Epilogue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jack was tucked into bed when Aaron entered the room holding an unlit candle as he made his way over to crouch next to the boy. He knelt next to the bed before reaching for the lighter and Jack watched the candle flicker to life.</p><p>“Why are we doing this?” Jack asked slowly, his gaze fixed on the candle.</p><p>“We haven't talked to Mom in a while, so I thought it would be a good idea if we did it again,” Aaron said softly, passing him the candle and he gripped it carefully in his small hands.</p><p>“But I don’t want to make you sad,” he protested quietly.</p><p>“Buddy, you're not making me sad,” Aaron corrected him gently. “It makes me happy, because it reminds me what a great job Mom did with you. So maybe if we got in the habit of doing this again, you know, Mom could help us.”</p><p>“Like with what?” Jack asked.</p><p>“You know, if you have a bad day,” Aaron hinted. “Mrs. McKee said Paul's been mean to you.”</p><p>“He hasn't been mean to me,” Jack said quietly.</p><p>“No?” Aaron asked, just to be sure. But his son shook his head in insistence. “Okay. Well, Mom, look out for Jack anyway.” Jack watched his father carefully.</p><p>“And Dad too.” Aaron smiled, pressing a kiss to Jack’s forehead.</p><p>“And Dad too.”</p>
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